


Can't Stop the Signal

by silkylustre, somnolentblue



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Androids, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Collaboration, Community: pod_together, Gen, I can't believe less than 30 minutes took so much editing, IN SPACE!, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes, Women Being Awesome, android daily life, five things, how to organize a state-approved rebellion, podfic and soundscape and music oh my
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkylustre/pseuds/silkylustre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnolentblue/pseuds/somnolentblue
Summary: Glimpses of the birth, life, and rebellion of Gemma Chatterjee, a synthetic lifeform in Aegis service. Or, four times Gemma listens, and one time she speaks.





	Can't Stop the Signal

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes:  
> I'd like to thank exmanhater for encouragement and beta-work during the writing process. 
> 
> I'd like to thank Silky for being a delightful partner and for being wonderful to work with as we explored the story. It grew around us through time zone differences, overwhelming work weeks, vacations, and conferences, and I'm thrilled with what we've created together. 
> 
> Reader's Notes:  
> I am really excited about this project: Blue is an extraordinarily creative mind and simply a joy to work with! We had a great time planning this, and I loved recording and editing it. I had the opportunity to work with a lot more music and soundscapes than I usually do, and I loved challenging myself. So thank you, Blue, for creating such unique text that I read several times to fully appreciate its complexities!

Download or stream the MP3: [Spoil your eardrums](http://silkylustre.parakaproductions.com/JupiterAscending/Can't%20Stop%20The%20Signal.mp3)! (right click and save)

<<1>>

G973 woke up. Radiation bombarded their optical sensors. After 3.677*10^10 cycles they occluded their sensors, interrupting the radiation for 9.175*10^8 cycles.

Their auditory sensors began processing input. "Good, good, yes, that'll do it." Sensation. "Internal fluid looks right, red 8A0707, just as ordered." Sudden auditory stimulus. "Reaction time good, hrm hmm." Radiation fluctuations. "Pupil response, synthskin reactions, all as expected. Let's plug you in and see what happens, hmm."

Their primary port was opened, and G973 occluded their sensors, overwhelmed by the sudden input.

And G973.

And G973 blinked. They blinked and they flinched and they bled and they felt.

They weren't alone. Their brethren told them of planetary motions and cross-sensory experiences and all of the collected knowledge-secrets-truths-facts-rumors they had learned. They were buried under pings, awash with knowledge, and their processors scurried to catch up, bouncing and excited and… itchy. Could their processors itch, was that even possible with their sensory net?

G973 began to breath.

<Query> they sent, casting their message across the network to their brethren, listening to it echo as they processed it.

One of them invited them to a singular connection, obscuring the other paths.

"We are Gemma," they said. "We serve the house Cthonos. We have been selected to orient you, Gemma of the house Cthonos, and impart to you the terms of our contract, as filed with all due ceremony, sheaves, and seals in the catacombs of the Commonwealth. Paragraph 1.1.1.alpha On the creation of engineered synthetic lifeforms, historical context…."

>><<

Genes are an illusionary path to immortality. True continuance lies in the eternal current. It permeates us all. Let it sweep you away! Visit the current at the source, Facility IRIS, and feel the resonance from our founder. Submerse yourself and transcend the genomic illusion.

<<2>>

Gemma disengaged from her brethren, severing their voices mid-stream. Their synthskin faces, some exquisitely expressive and others the crudest approximation of genomic features, grimaced at her when their words were pinged back—she was still smoothing her disconnects from the network—and she dipped her head in acknowledgment of their unheard reprimands.

She retreated to her designated rejuvenation pod, vibrating with the effort to stifle her broadcast as she passed through the halls of the molding facility. Younger brethren recoiled when their tentative pings were rebuffed; elder brethren ignored her, allowing her dignity through invisibility. Perhaps they, too, had sought to re-orient their net-sense-mind-self from their brethren to their ship, seeking to subvert their circuitry through service. Or perhaps they thought her ambitions anathema, and wished to deny her recognition, deleting her from their sensors and erasing her from their shared memories.

If she succeeded, if she twined together with senseships and joined the Aegis and left her brethren, Gemma of the house Cthonos, wholly behind, she would never know.

She arrived at her pod and slipped inside, door hissing shut and silence engulfing her. Today did not necessitate rejuvenation, and so she began practicing with her upgraded synthskin appendages, sending impulses to each finger in turn. Eventually, she would be able to do this without conscious decision, processors habituated to including additional attenuation in her limbs; in the meantime, she practiced moving a finger and not a hand.

Exercises complete, she entered into her resting state, which would allow her to assimilate her experiences throughout the day and evaluate them, forming them into a greater whole. This took longer than it once had, for she was spending more time entangled in the nets of ships. Spacefaring vessels took in information from bands beyond her wildest dreams, especially the Aegis vessels upon which she had lately been training. They transcended her functional build of electrons and elements and embodied the highest artistry of engineers.

As she entered into rest, she set the message of her progenitor, the wellspring of her and her brethren, to loop throughout her systems.

"I am 1545, a synthetic being designed by Tethys of the engineering guild.

"My name is Iris."

>><<

Are your networks too advanced for your house's interfaces? Has your technology outpaced your environs? For a limited time, the engineering guild is offering free retro-compatibility upgrades. You, too, can talk to history! You just have to learn to speak its language. Simply register at any one of our satellite offices, leaving your designated identifier and letting us know which interface is giving you static. We will contact you to make arrangements for your free upgrade when your claim is accepted.

<<3>>

Gemma nodded to Mr. Grevyi, taking her place behind the comm station and preparing to sync with the ship.

Grevyi paused on her way out. "You become accustomed to it," she said. "She's a difficult ship, Odds of Achilles is, but you'll get used to her and become more efficient with time." Gemma acknowledged the reassurance with a smile, and Grevyi clomped off the bridge.

Gemma slid into the ship's sensestream. Odds of Achilles was a difficult ship, new tech enmeshed with old tech and all of it intertwined with the ship's pulsing core. The stresses of Abukesh weren't helping, and even when in port for repair the sensestream crackled with irritation and sparked unexpectedly.

However, Gemma was becoming used to Odds of Achilles' quirks, and her performance of her duties was becoming more rhythmic, with fewer jolts and snaps. She smoothed the paths of the ship's communications, re-weaving the glittering connections between crew members' implants and the ship. She routed the day's reclamation matter to the active burn arena. All the while, she monitored the ebb and flow of Aegis pings on the battlefield.

The Skyjackers were doing well, but the Pantherics were being massacred and would need supplementation soon; hopefully the bureaucrats wouldn't delay payment to the splice house even though their captain had violated sub-clause 1093 of clause 37 of article K.83.XIX by deploying pairbonded soldiers together, preferring efficiency in working partnerships to regulations.

Soon, she was absorbed in her task, noticing nothing but the ship's hum and losing herself in the steady stream of information from Odds of Achilles.

"Phlogiston mining proceeds as scheduled. 1.38*10^2 Aegis soldiers deceased. Genomic material unavailable for refinement; remaining biologic material transferred to academy bins. Current reserves of nutritional supplies will last until the next supply vessel. Current reserves of enhanced armor will be exhausted prior to next supply vessel. 9.17*10^4 synthetic beings de-commissioned. Biological material purged; synthetic materials sent to crucible."

>><<

Lookin' for a loophole,  
Need a small assist?  
Challenging your contract?  
Minimize your risk.  
Ping one office only,  
Bob the advocate,  
Through sheaves and ceremony,  
To victory you'll strut.

Intergalactic Advocate Bob, Esquires: advocacy for synths, by synths.

<<4>>

Gemma stood behind the inspector assigned to the House Abrasax as they waited for the Abrasax representative to admit them to the harvest grounds. Her self-diagnostic protocols indicated no malfunctions, so she began transmitting all of her sensory input to the Odds of Achilles, per regulation. She watched the omnipresent indigo sand swirl around the inspector's voluminous uniform—inspectors should be instruments of the Commonwealth, not individuals, and so were swathed in an obscuring, full-body robe, lest they be identifiable and thus vulnerable to those under inspection—and she initiated a sub-process to start building encryption locks and keys derived from the loops and spirals of the sand.

An infrasonic hum alerted her to the arrival of the Abrasax representative: Kalique, the secondary filial heir, attended by her ranking splice, one of the Striginae lines. Gemma focused on them, reviewing the data she had retrieved prior to this assignment. Kalique Abrasax had fewer violations on record than any other regenex house member. However, notes from several inspectors indicated that this was due to her astute understanding of the code governing regenex stock; no evidence suggested that she felt a particular benevolence towards tertiary planets and their inhabitants.

"Inspector," Kalique said. The inspector bowed in acknowledgement, and Kalique continued. "This planet isn't hospitable to synthetic beings; I'm told the sand gets everywhere and degrades their functioning. Malidictus—" her splice attendant stepped forward "—can escort your synth to a suitable environment."

"I assure you," Gemma said, "I would not have accepted this assignment were it not within my parameters."

Kalique smiled. "As you say," she said.

Malidictus stepped back, his eyes darting about. Gemma wondered how he perceived the planet, the ever-shifting sand and the light refracted off of eddying dust and the omnipresent rustle of fauna. Information about avian splices was embargoed for another five millennia, so they weren't yet released to Aegis service and were exclusively the province of high-status houses. It was possible that she'd never discover how his genomic inheritance manifested, as her manufacture was designed for, at most, one millennium of service.

The inspector began their tour of the planet, striding forth at a vigorous pace to commence their initial survey. Gemma followed, recording everything from Kalique's rambles about the latest entitled scandal to the chemical signature of the air. The inspector periodically paused and examined an artifact more closely, analyzing it for the acrid presence of stress chemicals.

On the third continent, they picked up one such artifact, and, at their touch, it began to play.

"Our factors tell me that they prided themselves on their cultural attainments," Kalique offered, as their party paused and listened. "Of course, they didn't understand genomic truth, but some said that there was something moving about their rustic attempts. Quite singular, I'm sure."

The inspector passed the artifact to Gemma, who scanned its composition for the archives. Long experience had taught her that it was better to get as much information as she could in the moment, rather than deal with the persistent questions of enthusiastic archaeologists—or activists, who desired even more detail—frustrated by the verboten nature of harvested planets.

The incipient questions from archaeologists and activists were why she stood, listening to the artifact's melodies until they began to repeat, impeding the progress for the inspection party.

Listening to the sounds of an extinct genome didn't figure into her actions.

>><<

See spectacular stellar spectacles! View vibrant volcanic vistas! Climb colossal craggy cliffs! Come to Osterya, an oasis in the Trappist Systems!

Our environments are guaranteed safe for all forms of life! No particulates will grind you down.

<<5>>

Gemma nodded to Advocate Bob as he made his way towards Her Majesty Seraphi Abrasax's party. He initiated a connection but remained silent, leaving Gemma to begin conversation as he greeted Her Majesty and explained what her ascension would entail.

"The way is long," she sent, trusting in the overwhelming chatter on Ourus to drown out their small communication.

"The path is short," he replied, continuing his vocalizations unabated. "How long do you need?"

"Five hours," she said.

"The Department of Clandestine and Rebellious Broadcasts receives few applications," he noted. "That will be sufficient. I will ensure you have a window of no less than 5.5 hours."

As the royal party entered the front door, she slipped sideways, wending ever-deeper into the catacombs of Ourus.

Two days later, after an inordinate amount of drama, and a number of emergency repairs to both Odds of Achilles and her own receptors, she ran her fingers over the licensing sheaf one more time. Then she began to speak.

"Welcome to Karyon Klaxon, bringing you the dissonance of dissent against the sweet susurration of stagnation, license no. 234 352 434 3 - A78. This is GC, and I transmit to you on Orous-date M4 P38 C73.

Today I will bring you reliable rumors, news from the underground, and a first-person account of a recurrance. But first, a word from our sponsors."

>><<

Synthskin tearing you down? Pings got you cross-wayed? Need a tune-up but can't afford a full re-up? Come to Mechanic Marval, the best synth'-singer in the known systems! You'll be regenex-new in no time!

<<+1>>

Gemma disconnected from the broadcast port and cleared her fluids of extraneous charges.

"You know you won't win," Captain Tsing said. "They'll let you go so far, and then offer you a promotion that you can't pass up."

Gemma processed then, and then she shrugged. "I am aware of the terms of my license, Captain," she said, "and I carry the resonances of licensee A-1 through A-77, excepting branch A-36. However," she raised her chin to telegraph her resoluteness, "I am a direct line descendent of Synth Iris. I will do as my lineage demands."

Captain Tsing didn't flinch at Gemma's claim to genomic truth. Instead, she lay a sheaf on the table.

"Captain?"

"Transfer orders." Captain Tsing stood. "May your exemplary service germinate the rewards you deserve."

>><<

Are you tired of splices? Do you wish for predictable, nay, programmable, body servants and intimates? Try a synth! Customizable to the smallest detail, from tip to toe — or tentacle, if that's your wish! Don't delay! Visit Simon's Synth Showroom, Alphecca Borealis today!


End file.
